


sugar baby love (I didn’t mean to make you blue)

by nolimepercipere



Category: Trust (TV 2018)
Genre: Feminization, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Thighs, disguising themselves as a story, obscure references to trashy italian movies from the 70s, this is pretty much three kinks in a trench coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolimepercipere/pseuds/nolimepercipere
Summary: “Say what you want, but deep down you’re just an old pervert like the rest of them.”This time Leonardo doesn’t try to correct him, he recognizes a losing battle when he sees one.
Relationships: Leonardo/Primo Nizzuto
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	sugar baby love (I didn’t mean to make you blue)

**Author's Note:**

> This was brought to you by late night musings about the sad baseness that is [Commedia sexy all'italiana](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commedia_sexy_all%27italiana) and a rewatch of Trust with all its frankly obscene closeups of Luca Marinelli’s thighs and derrière.
> 
> See the End Notes for the translation of the Italian and Calabrian expressions used in the story.

Leonardo can hear the cacophony of the bar coming all the way across their small town square - the music playing from the old, rickety radio, men drinking and yelling. 

Once inside he lets his eyes roam around until they land on his “associates”, sitting at a table in the corner, with a mess of shot glasses and ashtrays between them, too busy with raucous laughters to notice his entrance. He walks over to them, pulling a chair from a nearby table and sits down.

“I could hear you lot from across the other side of town, what are you all yammering about?”

“The new movie with the Guida girl, Leonà. You haven’t seen it?”

Dante all but smacks him in the face with a magazine. Wrenching it from his hold and away from his face, Leonardo looks down on it and is presented with a picture of a scantily clad girl wearing what must account for the shortest blue skirt he’s ever seen _Cristo santo!_ She looks sixteen at best. 

“Come on guys, you know this is not the type of movies _‘u professuri_ would enjoy. He's a married, God-fearing man.” 

He looks up at Primo, casually sprawled on a chair, legs stretched out in front of him. He’s so damn infuriating, is what he is. And it would be so easy for Leonardo to snap back. So easy to find the words to humiliate him in front of his men and throw them at his face. A part of him knows this is Primo testing him. 

“Forgive me if I’m not attracted to little girls” is what he says instead. Rolling the magazine and holding it back to Dante.

“Nobody here is. This is just for fun, Leonà, it’s all fake”, he counters, offended “I’m pretty sure she’s legal anyway”.

“You have to admit, she looks great with that skirt though”, Vincenzo somehow intercepted the magazine and is carefully smoothing it open once again “The color suits her”.

“Yeah, ‘cause all you’re looking at is the color. _Va’ fammi ‘u piaciri, va’!_ ”

“It’s a nice color!” rebuts Vincenzo. He turns to Leonardo for approval, “Isn’t it, Leonà? Doesn’t your wife wear it a lot?”.

“Go wipe your mouth before you even think about speaking Regina’s name!”, he rebukes only half-joking while pointing his finger at Vincenzo’s face. His mind, though, goes to Regina’s dress the day of Francesco’s Confirmation. To the pretty sundress she was wearing the first time he found the courage to ask her if she wanted to take a walk with him. The treasured lapis lazuli necklace she inherited from her mother which suits her name so well.

“But you’re right. It is a nice color”, he concedes with a small smile downing the shot glass Dante just pushed to his hand. 

* * *

The meeting with the _Assessore_ went really well and Primo is brimming with manic energy as he all but drags Leonardo up the stairs to his Gioia Tauro apartment. He doesn’t let go even once they’re inside, leading him to the master bedroom. 

He can’t help the question, “Primo, are you high?”.

Primo turns and fixes him with one of his unnerving stares. The silence between them stretches for a couple of seconds, long enough for Leonardo to start thinking that maybe he ought to apologize for assuming. “We were together all day, you know I'm not high”, comes the stony reply. “I have a surprise for you, stay here”.

Primo finally lets his hand go and disappears into the bathroom. Tired, Leonardo sits down on the bedside. The thing is a huge monstrosity that’s more pillows than structural integrity, but Primo likes it. Not that he’d said it outright, but his eyes had been exceptionally wide and bright the first time he’d led Leonardo to the room. He’d jumped on it, and kept bouncing like a little kid. 

He’s torn from his musings by the sound of the bathroom door sliding open. He looks up, a long-suffering sigh ready on his lips for whatever harebrained surprise Primo concocted for him tonight.

He looks up and it’s like his brain has decided this to be the best moment to turn into an old TV. Static is all he can hear. He can’t fully process what’s in front of him. 

By all means, Primo should look ridiculous, but once he’s got over the shock, all Leonardo can think of is that Primo is a vision. 

He's wearing one of his stupidly distracting shirts. The green fabric stretches across his chest and clings to his wide shoulders. Short sleeves straining against the muscular cut of his biceps. Nice as it is, Primo’s choice of topwear is not what’s got Leonardo’s throat feeling parched. 

It’s what he’s wearing below. 

“ _Mìnchia_ Primo, where did you go get that thing?”

He turns his nose up as if offended Leonardo even thought to ask, “I’m a man of many resources.”

There is a beat of silence and then a smug grin blooms on Primo’s face, “I knew it, you can act high and mighty all you want, but I knew you liked the skirt!”

“Has it crossed your mind that maybe it’s not the skirt, but who’s wearing it?”

The rebuttal comes natural to Leonardo and it seems to leave Primo speechless for a moment before he’s giving him one of his shrugs.

“Say what you want, but deep down you’re just an old pervert like the rest of them.”

This time Leonardo doesn’t try to correct him, he recognizes a losing battle when he sees one.

“Come here. _Assèttati_.” He gestures to his lap.

Primo makes his way to where he’s sitting on the bed. With those unnerving eyes of his, he looks like a wolf stalking a prey which Leonardo probably shouldn’t find as hot as he does.

He straddles his lap, making himself comfortable with both thighs on either side of his. He watches Leonardo avidly as he squirms on his lap.

Leonardo’s hands come to rest on his waist to hold him still. 

Primo is not small nor is he delicate, but there is something so alluring about the width of his chest, the fullness of his ass and how small in comparison his waist looks. Leonardo would know, he’s got a good head for math. And what is math if not numbers and shapes.

He feels like a teenager with his attention completely fixed on the little scrap of cloth separating Primo's skin from him and on how magnificent his thighs look framed by it. 

“ _Mìnchia_ Primo, look at you.“

Blue looks good on him.

He reverently brings his hands to rest on Primo’s knees and then strokes his palms up to rest on the inside of his thighs, his thumbs a breath away from the warmth of his crotch. It’s so soft, this part of Primo, Leonardo loves fucking it almost as much as Primo’s tight hole. 

“Look at these thighs. You’ve got no business having legs this pretty.”

Primo starts squirming on his lap again, torturing and sweet at the same time. Leonardo wraps one arm around him to hold him still as he keeps stroking one thumb to the soft flesh.

Once he’s confident Primo will stay still, he turns his attention to another part he’s particularly fond of. He runs his hands all around Primo's thighs bringing them to rest on that gorgeous ass of his. 

His head shoots up, “Primo wha-?”

Primo’s got his mouth slightly open, panting, a deep blush high on his cheeks. The moment they make eye contact he gives Leonardo one of his smug little smiles.

“Would you like to see it?”

He brings his hands down to the flimsy excuse of a skirt. Leonardo notices they’re slightly trembling. Slowly, because he was born to be a tease, he grips the blue fabric and little by little lifts it up.

“ _Santa Maria!_ ”

He’s wearing white panties. 

White, cotton panties. 

Primo is wearing pure, virginal, white, cotton panties. With delicate scalloped edges and a small bow at the front.

It’s obscene.

Leonardo loves it.

Almost in a daze he brings one hand to trace the obvious bulge behind the fabric. He places the pads of his fingers right where there’s a growing damp spot. 

When Primo speaks, he’s glad to hear he’s not the only one feeling out of breath, “You should know by now I don’t do things by halves.”

The next thing he knows, Leonardo has somehow managed to flip them over and he knows he’s going to regret it tomorrow when his back will remind him of his age. But it’s worth it to see the spectacle laid in front of him. 

It's worth the surprise in Primo's eyes.

“You’re gorgeous”

Soft brown hair fanned in a dark halo around his upturned face. Sea-foam eyes wide open, mouth parted and a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the low light. Fuck, he’s so pretty like this. 

That stupid skirt is all rucked up on his lap. 

And those fucking panties... the cotton is stretched so thin he might as well not be wearing anything for all the modesty they provide. 

Leonardo grabs his hips and brings him closer to the edge of the mattress. Primo brings his legs up, folding and spreading them, to get a foothold on the bed.

“ _Gioia mia_ , is this all for me?”

That’s apparently too much, as Primo abruptly brings one arm to lay across his eyes, obscuring half his face.

“ _Stàtti cìttu!_ ”

Leonardo’s attention is captured by the sliver of tanned flesh that’s left exposed as Primo’s shirt rides up his tight waist. He brings one hand to lightly caress the soft bronzed skin, fine hairs lightened by the sun. He feels the muscle jump under his fingertips.

“ _Èjati!_ We don’t have all day.”

Leonardo smiles at that petulant voice as he brings his hands to rest on Primo’s feet. Barely clinging to the mattress as they are. 

He loosely circles his ankles before starting a devout ascent towards his knees. He puts some pressure on them, a voiceless command. He wasn’t joking before, Primo has no business going around with legs this pretty, this long. 

And those thighs _Cristo!_ He can see the corded muscles straining under the pressure of his palms. Such a nice contrast to the plump, smooth inside, where he’s warm and sticky with want. Leonardo takes his time, letting his hands slide down to caress at the crease where legs meet hips only to have Primo suddenly try to block his exploration. He whines low in his throat as he brings one hand to cover himself, skirt fisted tightly in his fingers, he tries to close his legs too.

Leonardo tsk-tsks and gently guides Primo's legs to once again splay open in front of him.

“Getting shy on me, _gioia_?”

“More like getting bored”, he mutters still hidden behind his arm. His flush has spread to his ears and neck now.

Leonardo doesn’t rush him, he rests one hand over the one still clinging to the blue fabric feeling it tremble below his skin. 

“C’mon, give me your hand.”

Once Primo’s fingers have unclenched from the crumpled fabric, he grips them with his own.

“You’ve been with girls, haven’t you, Primo?”

The body beneath him immediately tenses up, the grip on his hand turns painful. 

Leonardo knows this is a risky question to ask, but he likes to think he’s getting pretty good at navigating the minefield that is Primo's psyche. 

He gets a small, curt nod in response as Primo’s body slowly unclenches.

“Good, then you know how they get themselves off.”

Slowly he brings Primo's hand to rest over the front of those pretty panties he’s wearing. He lets go, but his hand stays hovering above.

“You’re gonna do the same thing to yourself.”

Leonardo doesn’t think of himself as a gambler, but they’ve gotten so far and nobody’s got hurt. Yet.

“Come on, _gioia_ , show me what a sweet girl you are.”

For a moment everything is still. _That’s it_ , he thinks, he’s gone too far too quick. Then slowly he watches as Primo’s fingers start moving in a tentative circle over the straining front of his panties.

Leonardo lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“That’s it, _zzùccaru_ , here you go. You’re perfect.”

He sees Primo shiver at the sound of his fly being pulled down. 

He takes himself in hand and not for the first time finds himself wondering what the hell someone like Primo finds in someone like him. 

He’s not playing at being modest, he knows he’s not bad looking, but he’s also realistic. He's not the twenty year old boy with a head full of unruly curls and an easy smile, he hasn’t been for a while now. 

He’s also got eyes and Primo, Primo is gorgeous! With a body that wouldn’t look out of place in one of those fancy museums they have in Rome. He could have anyone and yet here he is. 

Here they are. 

He doesn’t let himself dwell on the matter too long. As much as Regina likes to always remind him he’s a good man, he knows he can also be a greedy one.

He returns his attention to the feast laid in front of him. Primo, bless him, hasn’t stopped stroking himself as he’d instructed. The sight is almost enough to make him come and he has to tighten his grip to avoid any embarrassment. 

It would certainly be easier if they took the panties off he considers, but when have things ever been easy with Primo. 

Leonardo uses the hand that’s not gripping himself to pull the fabric aside, letting his fingers glide over Primo’s cleft and finding it already slick. _Crìsto Santo!_ One small prod to his furled hole confirms his assumption.

He pushes two of his fingers inside and they meet no resistance. 

“ _Oh zzùccaru_ , you got wet for me? You’re so sweet, so perfect.” 

He bends to kiss the arm still covering Primo's eyes and uses his other hand to guide his cock to Primo’s entrance. 

He pushes in.

“ _Mìnchia_ , how are you always so tight?” 

* * *

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long, they’re both too worked up. 

In the end all it takes is Primo arching up into his own palm and clenching impossibly tight around Leonardo as he makes a mess inside his panties and Leonardo is soon following after, emptying himself inside of him. 

Like a puppet whose strings have suddenly been cut he collapses over Primo’s panting form. He barely manages to move his elbows up to avoid crushing him completely.

Regaining his breath, he looks down between them at the ruined fabric of Primo's skirt, the poor thing is all wrinkled and covered in sweat and come. 

“I’m sorry, I think we ruined your skirt”, he places a small kiss to Primo's damp temple, “Such a pity, it looked really good on you”, he whispers to his ear and he’s not surprised to find he’s only half-joking. 

“Do you think blue looks good on me?”

Primo’s voice, still hoarse and breathy, pulls him out from his musing. 

He rolls to his side and makes an inquiring sound. He’s not really sure what the color has to do with anything they've done tonight. Apart from Primo stubbornly deciding to prove his point by recreating a look from a movie they only spoke about in passing days ago. But suddenly he pictures Primo the day of Francesco's Confirmation, when he’d shown up wearing that three-piece suit who’d made him look like a million bucks. The nice polo shirt he’d worn to lunch a couple of weeks ago. Primo standing tall and proud at the construction site, silhouetted against the blue of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

“Yeah, ‘s a good color on you”, he hums sleepily, “Brings out your eyes.”

The last thing he sees before he gives in to sleep is the smile slowly stretching on Primo’s lips. That looks good on him too.

**Author's Note:**

> The movie referenced is _La Minorenne_ (The Minor) which came out in 1974 starring Gloria Guida as the titular character ~~do yourselves a favor and don’t look it up~~. 
> 
> [The](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/11/7a/c6/117ac678df1cb5c14c30bcca83e2ada1.gif) [outfit](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ce00f7db03d40f062466738928f76d2d/tumblr_o2ar67SLNx1todga9o1_250.gifv) Primo recreates is the one she’s wearing in the opening scene.
> 
> _Cristo santo/Cristo_ : Italian for "Holy Christ", “Christ” , its use is similar to that of "Oh my God"  
>  _‘u professuri_ : “the professor” in Calabrian. I’m pretty sure Primo addresses Leo this way at least once in the series. If I’m not wrong it was translated as “the scientist” in the subs  
>  _Va’ fammi ‘u piaciri, va’!_ : Calabrian for “Come on, give me a break!”  
>  _Assessore_ : Italian for “Council member”  
>  _Mìnchia_ : Originally it’s from Sicilian (literally dick, cock, prick...) but it’s now common anywhere in Italy, especially in the South. It’s used as an exclamation of surprise and appreciation.  
>  _Assèttati_ : “Sit down” in Calabrian  
>  _Santa Maria_ : Italian for “Holy Mary”, same as Cristo Santo  
>  _Gioia mia/Gioia_ : Literally “My joy”, “Joy”. It’s used affectionately, especially with children, similar to “My dear” or “My darling”. It’s what Primo calls Fifty on the phone in episode 4 which for some reason was translated as “Little mouse” in the subs  
>  _Stàtti cìttu_ : Calabrian for “Shut up”  
>  _Èjati_ : Calabrian for “Hurry up”  
>  _Zzùccaru_ : Calabrian for “Sugar”
> 
> That’s all folks! I apologize for any mistakes as this was not beta’d and English is not my first language.  
> I hope you enjoyed it ♥


End file.
